Sex Education

I was noodling around looking for sailing blogs today and found this joke on Nhicky Albano's blog. As I work as a sailing instructor in the summer it seemed appropriate.

Mr. Killington wanted to become a teacher in the worst way, but the only job he could find was as an instructor at an all female college teaching sex education. His wife was a very jealous woman so Mr. Killington decided he would tell his wife that he would be teaching sailing at this college so that she would not get angry. He was very happy and for months all was well.

As fate would have it, one day in the grocery store check out lane, Mrs. Killington overheard a group of girls standing in line behind her talking about college and their instructor Mr. Killington. The girls went on and on about how great this Mr. Killington was at teaching their class. The cashier handed Mrs. Killington her change and said, "Have a great day Mrs. Killington, and thank you, again."

One of the girls in line heard the cashier, and asked Mrs. Killington if she was related to the Mr. Killington that was teaching at the college. Mrs. Killington replied, "Yes, he is my husband." Well, that set off a torrent of accolades about how knowledgeable Mr. Killington was about the subject matter he was teaching, about how he got the whole class to discuss their fears about learning the subject.

Well, Mrs. Killington was taken back by what she heard from these girls and replied, "I don't know how you find him to be so gifted at teaching you this course. You know he only tried it twice in his life. The first time he tried it, he got sick, and the second time, his hat blew off and he just quit."

OK. It's a pretty childish joke. But Nhicky apparently is a 14 year old girl so I'm sure it appeals to that demographic.

Winning Isn't Everything

I was trimming my hedge this morning and pondering all sorts of questions about why I race sailboats and my mental attitude and approach to different regattas.

Such questions as....

Why am I racing in this event? What will it take for this to count as a good day? What are my expectations of winning? How much do I care about winning?

In thinking back on the events I have entered this year the answers are surprisingly different.

First of all there are regattas like the Laser US Nationals where I had no chance of placing near the top of the fleet. I was just there to have some fun and get some practice sailing in stronger winds and bigger waves than I am used to. Sure, I tried my hardest in the individual races. But I also played around with different techniques. And I didn't stress out about how well I would do in the races. It really didn't matter.

Then there are events like our Wednesday evening Sunfish series. Actually I probably could do well in this series if I put my mind to it; I do win the occasional race. But I really don't take the series seriously at all. My main aim there is to practice my starts for other more "serious" events. So beforehand I am thinking about being aggressive on the start line and, in the racing, I feel free to experiment, joke around with fellow sailors, have fun.

There are other events that I do actually win, but where winning is not my main focus or reason for sailing. In our Sunday Laser fleet series my main aim is to build this new fleet. I want to attract new sailors, have them enjoy sailing the Laser, pass on some of my knowledge and get them coming out on the race course regularly. I will consider the year a success if we build the fleet to, say, 10 active, regular sailors by the end of the season. Right now I win all the races but there's little pleasure in that; I will actually count it as progress when some of the newcomers do start beating me. In the meantime I also get tremendous pleasure in just being out in the wind and the waves and the sun in a superb little boat.

My approach to our Laser regatta was similar. My main aim was for the event to be a success. A good turnout, well run regatta, close racing up and down the fleet. I had tougher competition than in our Sunday races but winning was just a bonus.

The most problematical events, in terms of preparation and mental attitude, are those regattas where I have a chance to win -- maybe a 5 to 25% chance -- but certainly no expectation of an easy win. And because the competitors are strong I would feel a genuine sense of pride in testing myself against them and beating them. So I do really care about winning. In these races there is a definite risk of "choking". I can think of several regattas over the years which I entered thinking I only had a small chance of winning, and then being tied or with a one point lead going into the final race. Time and time again I blew it with a stupid mental error or lapse of concentration or error in execution. SoulSailor writes in his blog this week of being "2nd a bloody gain". I know how he feels -- I have a shelf of 2nd place trophies and hardly any 1st place ones.

The Commodore's Cup this Saturday is in this latter category of events that are a real, but realistic, challenge. I certainly have a chance to win; after all I have won it the last 2 years. But that brings it own pressures. I would certainly feel proud to win it because I know that the competition will be tough. How will I get myself in the right frame of mind to sail well, to be relaxed and not tense, to focus on performance not position? How to care -- but not too much?

Ten Reasons to Own a Laser

1. It will keep you fit.
   
2. No matter how many years you sail it, you still have something to learn.
   
3. Every weekend you can go sailing at a regatta near you.
   
4. You have an excuse to travel to regattas anywhere in the world.
   
5. Easy to maintain.
   
6. Cheaper than a J-24.
   
7. Goes on a roof rack.
   
8. More fun than sex. OK I lie. But it's close.
   
9. Laser sailors are the nicest group of people on the planet. Except for my family of course.
   
10. Nobody to blame but yourself when you screw up.
    

Man You're Old

I mentioned in a previous post that I was going to try and work on my mental game this year.....

Stop. Back up.

"... was going to try and work..."? That's not positive thinking. Start again.

This year I will improve my mental game. I've decided to use the method in the book Mental Edge by Kenneth Baum.

One of the first things the book asks the reader to do is to "write down a limiting belief that you have of yourself as an athlete."

OK. I'm old. How about that as a limiting belief?

How old?

Have you noticed that old people always look ahead to the next birthday when asked their age? You ask some little old lady in a nursing home her age and she will proudly reply in a quavering voice, "I'll be 94 next birthday, my dear." I guess the unstated but understood condition is, "..if I last that long." My father had a variation of that. He was always "pushing" a certain age, as in "pushing 70." I think he used that answer from about 66 onwards. So let's say I'm pushing 60.

Baum then asks, "What irrefutable evidence exists that this belief is true?" Hmmm. Let me see. Here's my birth certificate. Here's my driver's license. Here's my passport. Even the Department of Homeland Security would accept the evidence. I was definitely born during the Truman administration. Irrefutable indeed.

Of course my limiting belief is not so much my chronological age. It would be better stated as, "I'm too old to be really good at Laser sailing." And it is true that the top Laser sailors seem to be in their early 20's and look as if they spend 3 hours a day in the gym and 5 hours a day on the water. But I'm not aiming to compete in their league. I'm not trying to qualify for the Olympics. I'd be quite happy with doing well in local regattas and club racing and to be competitive with the best sailors of my age group.

Paul Simon summed it up well in his song "Old".

The first time I heard "Peggy Sue"
I was 12 years old
Russians up in rocket ships
And the war was cold
Now many wars have come and gone
Genocide still goes on
Buddy Holly still goes on
But his catalog was sold

First time I smoked
Guess what - paranoid
First time I heard "Satisfaction"
I was young and unemployed
Down the decades every year
Summer leaves and my birthday’s here
And all my friends stand up and cheer
And say man you're old
Getting old
Old
Getting old

We celebrate the birth of jesus on christmas day
And buddah found nirvana along the lotus way
About 1,500 years ago the messenger mohammed spoke
And his wisdom like a river flowed through hills of gold
Wisdom is old
The koran is old
The bible’s
Greatest story ever told

Disagreements?
Work ’em out

The human race walked the earth for 2.7 million
And we estimate the universe at 13-14 billion
When all these numbers tumble into your imagination
Consider that the lord was there before creation
God is old
We’re not old
God is old
He made the mold

Take your clothes off
Adam and Eve

Next week in the Mental Edge method - 5 positive beliefs about myself. Geeze - that will be hard.

Banter

One of the guys making the most noise about how he is going to take the Commodore's Cup away from me is one of the fastest sailors in the Force 5 Fleet. He is the master of the one-liner put-down remark and quite a character. In line with my practice of giving my fellow sailors nicknames, let's call him Flash.

Before racing on Sunday, Flash was telling me how he was going to beat me next Saturday. I adopted an attitude of mock apathy.

"I hope you do win, Flash. I'm tired of seeing that ugly cup in my home. And I'm fed up of having to polish it. Worst of all, every time I win it I have to fork out twenty bucks to get my name engraved on it. I can't afford to win it again. You can have it. In fact, come by my house before Saturday and pick it up."

Round one to me.

On Sunday the Force 5's and Lasers started together. According to the handicaps, the Force 5 is about 4% slower than a Laser. So if a Force 5 sailor beats a Laser sailor he feels he has achieved something; that's why they like to have a combined start. I like it because it makes for more interesting racing to have more boats on the start line, even though the two fleets are being scored separately.

In the first race, the wind was very light. Before the start, Flash was trying to match race me, force me over the line early, make me foul him, playing games with my head. I escaped him and worked out to the right side of the course and saw a wind line even further right. I sailed towards it and could feel the wind getting progressively stronger. The only other boat on the right dug back in to the center of the course. Everyone else was way over on the left of the course for reasons I could not fathom. As I sailed further into the new wind I was headed some and the wind was getting even stronger. I sailed as far as the layline, tacked and rounded the windward mark a hundred yards ahead of the pack. Flash was nowhere to be seen.

After the race Flash sailed over to me. "Well, a Laser won but it wasn't you."

I was puzzled. What did he mean? Was this some obscure put-down? Whatever his point was, I didn't get it.

A few minutes later he sailed by again. "So who was that guy who won? Is there some ringer in your fleet?"

"It was me, Flash."

"Nooooo? I thought it was somebody handsome!"

I just can't win with this guy. But wait until Saturday.

Marked Man

I'm a marked man at the sailing club.

The reason is that through luck, guile and mathematics I am the current holder of the club's Commodore's Cup. This is a magnificent silver ice bucket awarded to the winner of our annual handicap regatta. Normally all the one-design fleets at the club race within their fleets. But once a year we have a one day regatta for all classes of boat scored using the Portsmouth Handicap system to determine the overall champion.

I won it two years ago through being sneaky. At that time I had the only Laser in the club. And the Laser was faster than any of the other boats competing. So all I had to do each race was to win the start, power away ahead of the other boats, then just keep extending my lead sailing in clear air while all the other fleets slowed each other down with covering and boat-to-boat tactics. As long as my lead at the finish was enough to overcome the Laser's handicap vis-a-vis the other fleets I could win every race. My sneaky plan worked like a dream. The wind was steady and around 15 knots so it was a pure boat speed competition.

The second year was more tricky; the winds were light and shifty and fluky. Several times I sailed into a hole in the wind and other boats caught me up. Of course, in a handicap race they didn't even need to pass me; if they finished close to me they effectively beat me. Somehow my closest competitor was beaten by one other boat in the final race which pushed him into a tiebreaker on points with me which I won through some mathematical quirk of the racing rules. Phew!

The regatta has been run every year for almost 40 years. Other folk have won it two years in a row before. Nobody has ever won it three years in a row. So I can hear them plotting, working out how to beat me this year.

The regatta is being sailed next Saturday. I'm a marked man.

Tweaks

I find it hard to take the Sunfish seriously. It's such a weird little boat. But my club has a Wednesday evening Sunfish fleet that's kind of fun and I enjoy the social aspects -- a.k.a. beer and pizza after racing. This year I've been using these races just to practice my starts and not worrying too much about what happens after the start which is usually pretty dire.

This week was different.

Before launching I was chatting to another sailor who is new to the Sunfish. He was looking at how I had set up my boat and I was giving him my usual line of, "Don't copy me. I know nothing."

But this guy was persistent.

"Why don't you have a line or a clip on the first grommet on the lower spar?" he asked.

"I dunno. Somebody told me that was the way to do it."

"Doesn't it make the sail baggy there?"

"Huh. Maybe. I dunno."

I told him that I thought most of the little tweaks and variations you find on racing Sunfish are of more psychological value to the skipper than anything else.

I went out for a practice sail. I looked at the front of the sail. Hmm -- maybe there is too much of a curve there. The second grommet had a loose tie but the third one had a clip and there was a vertical crease running up from that clip. Sort of looked ugly.

I returned to shore. I tweaked a bit. Added a tie at the first grommet. Replaced the clip at the third grommet with a tie. Fiddled with them until the front of the sail had a nice smooth entry with no vertical creases.

The races started in a shifty south-easterly breeze, maybe 8 knots. 13 boats racing

Race 1 - led for threequarters of the race but lost out on the final beat by boats that went to both corners. Seemed to be a big lift out on the left side. Ended up 5th. Pretty good for me in this fleet.

Race 2 - 1st. Race 3 - 2nd. Race 4 - 1st. Race 5 - 2nd.

What happened? I can't believe it. Neither can anybody else. I'm just here to practice starts, I despise the boat, and I have the best performance on the night. Moi?

Did my tweaks make all that difference? And if they did was it just psychological?

Of course it could have been because I nailed every start perfectly and used the strategic knowledge that I gained watching other sailors on the first race. But why was I able to do that this week when I never have before?

Tweaks. As W would say, "Don't misunderestimate them."

The more I sail, the more I think that sailing is a weird sport.

Cheating

I sailed a Sunfish regatta at the club on Memorial Day. I'm not too fond of the boat these days but there's a lot of Sunfish racing around here. When in Rome do as the Romans do.

It would have been a good regatta except for one thing. The day was marred by accusations of cheating. A sailor who is new to the area and had been doing well in the morning races left at lunchtime. When I asked other fleet members why he had left, I was told that he had committed a foul and not done his penalty turns. At lunch the husband of the woman who was fouled had requested the offender to retire from that race. Apparently the newcomer had said he had done his turns but his accusers would not take his word for it. Eventually he decide to withdraw from the regatta and go home.

I felt bad. I had met the newbie before and he seemed to be a nice enough guy as well as a good sailor. Just the kind of person we would want in our fleet. But now he was pissed off and we might not see him again. Words like "cheat" and "liar" were being used. Feelings were high.

I had no idea who was right or wrong. I tend to have a mistrust of any account where I have only heard one side of the story. Maybe he did do his turns. Maybe he wasn't the one at fault in the original incident. Maybe he was having a bad day; we all do. Maybe he is a jerk. I don't know.

This club has a history of harsh words being used, feelings being hurt and someone leaving the club in a huff, never to be seen again. I don't know why. Not all sailing clubs are like this.

The incident leaves a nasty dark cloud hanging over what would otherwise have been a perfect day.

Why can't we all play nice?

The Regatta

The sailors arrived. We had a briefing from the race committee chairman and launched before 10:30. Our first Laser regatta was under way.

The weather was perfect. The wind was from the NW with plenty of shifts and gusts to make life interesting. Over the day it built from under 10 knots in the morning to gusts of around 18 knots in the afternoon. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. Life was good.

The sight of 10 Lasers sailing out the race course was a huge thrill for me. I've sailed other boats but the Laser is my first love. There hasn't been an active fleet of Lasers on this lake for over 20 years. Indeed there's even been some antipathy to the Laser from some old-time club members for reasons lost in the mists of time. Seeing this fleet was a validation of our decision to revive Laser sailing at the club and made all the work of fleetbuilding and publicity in the winter worthwhile.

I was on a high as the racing started and, much to my surprise, started the regatta with two wins. In race 3, Wily Old Fox banged the right corner on the beat and won the race with Surfer Dude in second. In the middle of the fleet The Kid and Hot Chick were having close competition in Radials. The Rookie was the tailender but at least he had learned to keep the mast pointing at the sky instead of the bottom of the reservoir. Aussie was hanging in there but still adapting from his previous skills in the Laser 2. Cheerleader had her moments too and was leading one race for a lap.

We went in for lunch after 3 races. Hot dogs and hamburgers on the barbecue. It was good to relax in the sunshine and relive the morning's experiences.

After lunch, Living Legend showed his true form and won the first two races with me in second place both times. We had some good duels but he outmatched me every time in tactical situations.

Going into the last race I desperately tried to figure out the points situation. Remember my finishes and Living Legend's. Subtract the throwout. I figured that if I finished one place behind him I would win the regatta. I was wrong.

In the sixth and final race, Surfer Dude found the big shift on the right and took the lead. Living Legend and I battled for two laps but he was still ahead of me at the final mark. Oh well, I thought, it's OK, I still win the regatta if I finish one place behind him. Wrong! For some reason he didn't cover me up the final beat. We split tacks. When we came back I was ahead. Turns out I actually needed to beat him in this race to take the regatta. And I did.

Bossman and Wily Old Fox were having quite a duel too. They actually finished in a dead heat in the final race; and as a result were tied on points for the regatta.

Wow. What a feeling. Superb sailing weather. Good turnout for our first regatta. Close competition up and down the fleet. That would have been enough to make the day a success for me. Winning the regatta was an unexpected bonus.

We sailed in and derigged. Everybody seemed to have that mellow feeling of satisfaction that comes from a perfect day on the water. There had been no aggro, no protests, just clean fair racing in almost perfect sailing conditions. The trophies were awarded by Cheerleader. Speeches of thanks were made. The sailors were photographed with Hot Chick - once again in bikini - in the front row.

I love it when a plan comes together.

The Regatta Cast

Sunday was the big day.

Last fall my friend S. bought a new Laser and we decided to start a Laser fleet at the club. She is quite the cheerleader so I felt that with my experience in the class and her energy we had a chance to build a fleet quickly. One of her suggestions was that we hold a Laser regatta this year to help get the word out about the fleet. I was skeptical about doing this in year one but was swept along by her enthusiasm.

So Sunday was the day of our Laser regatta. We had done all the preparations. Publicity. Food. Trophies. Volunteers. But you never know how successful the event will be. It's a bit like throwing a party and wondering how many will show up and whether they will have a good time.

The weather was perfect. When I arrived at the lake around 8am it was sunny and blue skies. Already a wind of 5-10 knots was blowing from the NW. That was one worry out of the way; sometimes on the lake it doesn't start blowing until lunchtime.

Then the sailors started to arrive. My friend, Cheerleader. Another sailor who had just moved to the area from California - let's call him Surfer Dude. A new member of the fleet still learning the boat, a Rookie. And a long-standing member of the club, an Aussie, who used to sail a Laser 2 and who had just bought the solo version of the Laser. I welcomed him and asked him whether he still had the Laser 2.

"No. I lost that in the divorce settlement".

Oops. I didn't know he had been divorced.

"Sorry to hear that" I mumbled. Leaving it ambiguous as to whether I was expressing condolences for loss of wife or boat.

Cheerleader and I had persuaded a couple of club members from other fleets to sail the regatta in borrowed Lasers that we had found for them. The commodore of our club, let's call him Bossman, who had been very supportive our efforts to start the Laser fleet was sailing in my son's Laser. And one of the long standing members of the club, a Wily Old Fox who has great local knowledge of our lake's winds was sailing too.

A couple of youngsters with Laser Radials arrived. The Kid with his mother driving was welcomed by our race committee chairman; they had met on a course last weekend. And then a young woman arrived with her mother and they started putting together her dollie and unloading their boat. I went over to welcome them and help them as they were running a bit late. A few minutes later Bossman started giving me a hard time about being so eager to help. I didn't get his point at first - then I understood. It was true - the daughter was a strikingly good looking woman. One way to describe her was to say she was perfectly built for Laser sailing; the longest legs I've ever seen on a woman -and plenty of weight up top if you get the drift. And to rig her boat she had stripped off to a skimpy bikini. All the men were taking in the sight. Definitely a Hot Chick.

We were just about to hold the skippers' meeting when another car, with a Laser on the roof rack arrived. It was one of the sailors I had been seeing at regattas around here for many years. Seeing his transom mainly. The first few regattas I had sailed in this area - district championship, masters national championship - had been won by this man. In the little booklet issued to all Laser class members it lists the names of sailors who have placed in the top 5 in World Championships and Masters World Championships. His name is on these lists. Several times. A Living Legend.

So we had 10 boats. I had always said that if we achieved 10 boats for our first regatta I would count it as a success. Another local club who had just revived their Laser regatta only had 5. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

If you build it they will come. And they did.